Dragons Can't Sleep
by Jelly the IV
Summary: Ministory series. Secrets can be sharper than swords and sometimes blood isn't nearly as hard to clean as tears. A twisted OkitaHimura romance.
1. Alone at night

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—My muse wouldn't leave me alone after I posted A Child's Perspective, but at the same time I couldn't think of how a relationship between these two characters could be explained in a believable manner. So I turned to themes for help. This story will be a series of mini-stories written in relation to one of the forty themes from 30 nights, which can be found on LJ. I am not doing a claim on these characters but I find that when my muse is being particularly evil that themes can help spin some creativity out of my head. Be aware that in this story Kenshin is a woman.

**38. Alone at night**

Himura Battousai walked through the night, arms folded inside her sleeves. She was quite aware of how exposed she was but at the moment she didn't care. She wore only the dark blue kimono part of her Ishin uniform, not even swords thrust through her obi for protection. Her hair tie had broke and so her red hair hung loosely around her shoulders. Gods, she was suicidal. But she couldn't help it; she couldn't stop thinking about what Miss Mae had said.

"There are those who fear you, but there are also those who wish to see you prosper in the era you will create."

Yes, hopeful inspirational words and she could very well be murdered on the streets this very night. The irony was not lost on Himura. Why had she left her swords in her room again? Because normal women don't carry swords. How many normal women had red hair and worked as secret assassins for a group of rebels? Himura forced these thoughts down as she noticed a man at the far end of the street. She knew by the way he carried himself that he was a skilled and experienced swordsman. She would have to be careful.

"There are those who fear you..."

No! She couldn't think about it now! Himura kept walking, head slightly down but secretly watching the man's every move. Himura mentally cursed when she noticed how he casually rested his hand on his swords as the distance between them grew shorter. She was careful to project the image of a harmless woman on her way home, hoping he would continue to ignore her as he had so far. Unfortunately for Himura, fate never really liked the her.

"Miss," said the man, stopping and facing her from across the street. Himura also momentarily paused in her walking. She had to blink her eyes a few a times. This was not a man, he couldn't be but a few years older than herself; but she would not let her guard down, she of all people knew how deceiving appearances could be. The man continued, "it is rather dangerous to be walking at night without an escort."

He had this odd look on his face, a rather... cheerful expression. What was there to be happy about in this time of war? Only little children who did not understand what death was smiled like that. Seeing this expression on the face of someone older than herself, and who must have killed in the past, unnerved Himura but she didn't show it. She raised her voice a pitch from the normal low tone she used.

"I am fine, thank you," she said with a neutral expression on her face. The man, no, boy-- no, the swordsman-- regarded her curiously for a moment before making up his mind about something.

"What if there is a robber in the next alley you pass? I cannot allow anything bad to happen to a beautiful young woman like yourself," said the swordsman, tilting his head slightly to one side.

Himura couldn't hide her blush. She had spent half her life pretending to be male; no one had ever tried to flatter her before. Her mind snapped back to reality when he took a small step towards her. Mentally recoiling she nearly snapped at him, repeating her words: "No thank you, I am fine."

The swordsman halted mid-step. "Very well," he said after observing her features. Himura felt like her face was the same color as her hair. "Do be careful, Miss," said the swordsman before slowly continuing on his way.

Himura didn't allow herself a sigh of relief. She began walking faster back to the inn. Alone.


	2. It's just a nightmare

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—I think that I might have given Okita a bit of a Soujirou-like feel but Soujirou was based off of Okita in his character creation so there are bound to be similarities in my opinion. Again, Kenshin is a woman in this story so this isn't the typical Okita/Battousai story.

**40. It's just a nightmare**

The blood was warm as it sprayed onto his skin, like a summer rain almost. It didn't have that peculiar smell of rain, that sourly sweet scent, but instead had a deep rich scent that inspired a mental connotation similar to that of hot soup on a cold day. The feeling of it sticking and dripping down his skin was almost welcome.

He felt the pressure relieve his sword as the man was thoroughly cut in half. For several seconds he remained still, watching the thick crimson liquid run off the blade onto the ground. With a soft sigh he bent to wipe the sword clean on the dead man's shirt and then sheathed it.

"Are you going to the new brothel?" asked one of the men under Okita's command. He turned his head slightly to listen to their conversation. So casual, as if they hadn't just killed a dozen rebel soldiers whose blood was the same color as the almost fully set sun.

"No, I like the old one better. My favorite girl works there," replied another man.

"Are you going tonight, Captain?"

Okita smiled. "I have a previous engagement," he said cheerfully. His men laughed, nodded, and gave him winks on the side.

The first unit of the Shinsengumi returned to their headquarters, the men quickly changing and cleaning up before setting out for their late night escapades. Okita was among the last to leave the compound. He walked for quite some time under the moonlight, his face smiling as it always did. All too soon he could feel the pressure against his eyes, the familiar burn of unshed tears. He looked up at the moon, smile never wavering, and didn't dare blink as he kept walking.

How long he walked on like that he didn't know. Okita turned sharply, very small drops of tears sparkling as they were lost in the night. The red-haired woman stared back at him, silhouetted against the light of the restaurant she was standing in the doorway of. She stepped out into the street, letting the flap fall back into place. Okita could see a strange elongated bundle strapped to her back, her hair again loose around her shoulders and contrasting sharply with her kimono. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Why are you crying?" she finally asked, her voice low and not the same as Okita remembered.

"I'm not," Okita said automatically, smiling even more as he shifted his head so that his bangs hid his eyes. He could tell that the woman was suspicious.

"You should be careful, it is dangerous at night," she said after a long while, repeating his words back to him. He let out a short laugh.

"I will keep that in mind, Miss," he said.

"Good night," she said, bowing shortly, before walking away, her sandals not making a sound. Okita listened to the rustle of her clothes instead.

"Souji," he said suddenly, "that is my name."

He watched her stop and then slowly look over her shoulder at him. "Himura," she said.

"No first name, Miss Himura?" he asked, grinning at her. One side of her mouth tipped upward in a half-smile before she turned away again and resumed walking. As she left, Okita felt his-- whatever emotion it had been-- leave him and he felt as happy as his smile looked. That girl, that strange red-haired girl, was like a spring of holy water one went to bathe in to be purified. It was like the whole night up until that point was just a bad dream, and she had woken him from it.

This strange Miss Himura.


	3. You don't know what you have done to me

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—This story is kind of warped in my head. I'm trying to actually give it some semblance of a plot. Kenshin is a woman in this story.

**16. You don't know what you have done to me**

Okita was not a fool, but he was naturally curious. These two traits were very unfortunate for Himura as it resulted in Okita visiting the restaurant that Miss Mae owned-- each and every single day that she was to work the evening shift. This proved to be three nights a week, with Okita waiting patiently for Himura to take a break from her cooking and cleaning duties in the kitchen to talk with her.

Miss Mae found this quite amusing, and knowing partially what Himura did on the nights she was not working in the restaurant, encouraged Himura to take frequent breaks. The first week Okita did this, Himura politely answered his questions about her well-being and tried not to blush when he complimented her hair. She thought he would leave her alone after that but he came back the next week and the week after that and so on. Over the next two months, they began to form a strange friendly bond of sorts.

"Miss Himura, could I please have some warm sake?" Okita would call through the open kitchen door when a waitress passed through. Miss Mae always gave him the table closest to the kitchen, much to Himura's chagrin... at first.

"Go serve him," Miss Mae would say, pushing a jar and two cups into Himura's hand before pushing the woman herself out of the kitchen.

Himura would then sit and drink with him, knowing that Miss Mae would not let her back in the kitchen for a while. Then slowly they would talk, Himura quiet as ever and Okita cheerfully filling in the silences.

"Don't you have a job?" Himura asked suddenly one night. Okita's eyes flicked to her in mild surprise as he sipped his sake. He set the cup down to speak and Himura automatically refilled it for him.

"I work for the Shinsengumi," Okita answered easily. Himura's focus sharpened but she was genuinely interested in why this swordsman, one who apparently followed the Shinsengumi's beliefs, would spend so much time at a restaurant for a few meager snatches of conversation with her.

"What do you do?" she asked.

"As much as any man can do in times like these," Okita shrugged. "And you, Miss Himura? What is it that you do?"

"I cook, clean, do this," Himura gestured lightly to the set up of sake and cups between them.

"Three days a week only. You are very good but even Miss Mae cannot pay you enough to live off of three days work a week. What else do you do besides the restaurant?"

"Souji, sir..." Himura didn't want to lie, Okita would see through it. But if she didn't answer he would probe her until his curiousity was satiated.

"So polite," Okita smiled. There was another silence between them and not even Okita could come up with something witty to say to break it.

Himura had been wary of Okita due to the very fact that he was a swordsman. His association, whatever it was, with the Shinsengumi reinforced her instinctive paranoia. Yet she had come to enjoy his company, become as intrigued with the other youth as he was with her. She was supposed to be loyal to the Ishin Shishi, she could not risk anything, but the temptation was great.

Okita, as Himura suspected, was dying of curiousity but he was still no fool. Himura remained a mystery to him, and while he wished to untangle her secrets, he knew there was an underlying layer to her persona that he could not push without forcing her away. She had finally questioned him for once, he didn't want to undo what little progress he had made with her, but he was so curious...

Himura raised her cup to her lips and downed the sake in one swallow. She let Okita refill it as she said, "Forgive me, but I would rather not tell you what I do outside of this restaurant." The truth.

"Let us not speak of those things then."

"Agreed."

"Cheers," Okita raised his cup. Himura mimicked his action.

"Cheers."


	4. You will never look at me

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—Kenshin is a woman in this story.

**11. You will never look at me**

"I am glad we could reach an agreement," Katsura said, bowing formally to his fellow rebel leaders. The visitors returned the gesture before leaving discreetly. Katsura and his bodyguard were left alone in the spare room above Miss Mae's restaurant.

"Shall I escort you back to the inn, sir?" Himura asked from where she stood by the single window, emotionlessly watching the morning crowd walking cluelessly below on the street.

"I've sent for some breakfast, Miss Mae should be bringing it up soon. Are you not hungry?"

"It does not matter. The streets are becoming busier."

"There is still time to go back to the inn without incident," Katsura assured her. He glanced in her direction, wondering not for the first time how his best assassin could be a mere girl of fourteen. "Have you had any problems here?"

"No, Miss Mae keeps my presence noticed but not well known," Himura said, leaving out any mention of Okita.

"Good, there is less suspicion that way."

Secrecy was important as the restaurant was one of the many hidden meeting places in the city that the Choshou rebels used. Himura and Katsura were the only two in the Kyoto faction who knew about this particular restaurant's double purpose.

There was a soft knock on the door and Katsura called for the person to enter. Miss Mae herself brought in the tray of food and only gave Himura a quick smile before leaving silently. The restaurant owner worried for the young girl who she knew was trusted by Katsura for some reason. She wanted to see Himura live in the new era that they both believed in. Miss Mae, Katsura, and Himura's teacher were the only ones who knew that Hitokiri Battousai was a girl, and for Japan's future they would keep it that way.

"Come eat, Himura," Katsura said gently, picking up a pair of chopsticks. Despite the horrific role he had asked her to take up, he felt almost a fatherly affection for Himura. The fact that she had been orphaned and raised by her teacher alone made him regret the burden he had placed on her slim shoulders.

Himura was about to turn away when she felt the subtle ripple at the edge of her senses that alerted her to danger. Her instincts proved true when she saw a Shinsengumi squad out on morning patrol, the people reluctantly pushing to the sides of the street to let them pass. Himura's eyes widened when she picked out Okita walking amongst the group, the tell-tale white triangles on his blue uniform jacket.

"Katsura, we must leave immediately. There are Shinsengumi heading this way," she said, her voice sharp with the authority granted her as his bodyguard.

"How close?" Katsura asked, standing.

"Right outside of the restaurant," Himura said, turning her head to look at him. She pulled the window close, not noticing that part of her hair was caught. She was already thinking of how they would go out the back door and slip through the alleys to safety.

Katsura nodded, heading for the door, the food forgotten on the tray. "Let's go."

Himura started to follow until her head was yanked back. She let out a soft cry and stepped back, tracing the offended lock of hair with her fingers down to where it was caught between the wall and window. With a frown she pushed open the window, shook her head to free the hair, and then closed it again. What a waste of time. She hurried to catch up with Katsura who was already walking down the hall.

Outside on the street, Okita talked pleasantly with one of the men in the second squad. Nakamura had asked him to accompany them to help train the new recruits that had been added to his squad. Okita had agreed since he didn't have patrol that day with his own squad. Okita laughed at a joke and looked about the marketplace, taking in the uneasy stares of the people, the two birds that took flight off the top of a vendor's stand, and the flash of red hair from a window above.

The last observation made him do a double-take. That window was on the second floor of the restaurant that Miss Himura worked at. He connected red hair to Miss Himura, and wondered why she was there when she did not have work that night. It was more to add to the mystery that was Miss Himura.

"Captain?"

"Coming," Okita said, smiling as he always did. He looked at the window once more, wishing that Miss Himura was standing there and would look down and see him. He doubted she would smile and wave, wishing him well and asking his vow to return that night safe from harm; she was not the lady of a story that was told to the children. If anything, Okita had to think that she was quite the opposite. Miss Himura was rather unique like that.

None of the Shinsengumi noticed two figures slip out into the street behind them, broad hats hiding their faces as they walked quickly and seemingly innocently in the opposite direction as the squad. Himura glanced back over her shoulder at the Shinsengumi who had not suspected that their greatest enemy had crossed alleys and the street that they themselves had just passed. Yet a small part of her wished that Okita would look back and see her. She knew he wouldn't, and so she returned her attention to guarding Katsura.


	5. Like an art piece

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—Kenshin is a woman in this story. And as a slight clarification, there is a difference between men's and women's kimono but for the sake of the story I am ignoring it. It isn't mentioned but Kenshin wears a woman's obi when she's working at Miss Mae's restaurant.

**23. Like an art piece**

Another night, another assassination. Himura killed the target and his two bodyguards easily. One of the bodyguards managed to catch her cheek with the tip of his sword, leaving a vertical scar that broke the illusion of her feminine features.

"Say you were attacked," Katsura told her when she reported to him. "You will have to be more careful from now on in case someone recognizes you."

She had put a bandage over the wound before she left for Miss Mae's restaurant the following afternoon. Miss Mae had expressed concern but had known better than to ask. Okita, when he came to visit her as he usually did, didn't hesitate to ask.

"Miss Himura! What happened to you?" he asked, his constant smile dropped in favor of a concerned expression.

"I was attacked," Himura said, bringing out the tray of sake and cups as had become their custom.

"I told you that it was dangerous at night for beautiful women like yourself."

"Forgive me, I should have listened to you."

"Miss Himura, is that blood on your collar?" Okita asked curiously. For a split second Himura worried that she had not cleaned her clothes thoroughly enough the night before and her victims' blood had remained; then she remembered she had a plausible excuse.

"It is from the wound. I had nothing else to wear," Himura said, touching her kimono self-consciously and sincerely hoping that it was stained from her cut as she had said.

"Really?" Okita seemed to consider this for a minute and Himura observed him suspiciously. What was he thinking? Okita smiled brightly at her. "I will buy you a new kimono!" he declared.

"Wh-what?" Himura blinked wide-eyed at him.

"Let me ask Miss Mae if I may borrow you for a few hours," Okita said, already standing and heading for the kitchen. He returned shortly and took Himura's hand, practically pulling her through the restaurant. "She said to get something green to compliment your hair. I know just the place!"

"Souji, sir..." Himura tried to protest as she was half-dragged through the streets. The sun was setting but there was enough light to guide them. Okita was cheerfully ignoring her soft protests as he led her towards their destination. Himura eventually fell quiet; intrigued, flattered, and more than a little embarrassed that Okita was holding her hand.

"Here we are," announced Okita as they entered a small clothing shop. Himura stood cluelessly as Okita surveyed the inventory of the shop and immediately pulled out a nearby kimono. It was a soft yellow color with little red fans on it. "Do you like this one?" he asked, smiling.

"Uh..." Himura stared at it blankly. She had never bought a kimono for herself before. Okita smiled and left her to talk to the shopkeeper. She absently touched a kimono, a bright purple one, and was amazed by the silky texture of it against her calloused hand. She realized she had never really embraced her femininity growing up, instead following the path of the sword that had been laid out for her by her teacher, and part of her wondered how different she would be if she had been raised like a proper girl.

An elegant light green kimono was thrust into her face, causing her to step back out of surprise. "What about this one, Miss Himura?" Okita asked. He was more cheery than usual, Himura noticed.

"It is too fine," Himura said, fingering the long sleeves. How could she explain this to Katsura?

"This would get in the way of your work, wouldn't it? What about a yukata then?" Okita suggested, looking to the shopkeeper. Himura watched as Okita and the shopkeeper rifled through the racks of clothes, arguing and suggesting one over another, until they presented a beige yukata to her.

"Souji, sir, this is too much," Himura tried again. "I cannot accept this from you."

"Miss Himura, please take it. I do not expect anything in return," Okita smiled brightly and Himura could detect no hint of deceit in his actions. She really shouldn't...

"It would not be appropriate. Others might assume that there is something between us."

"Is it really such a bad thing to consider?"

Himura looked into Okita's eyes. He was smiling but his eyes were serious and his voice was sincere. He was Shinsengumi, she couldn't think about him like that, he didn't even know who she truly was. But if he didn't know, if no one knew, then maybe it could work. Only three people in Japan knew that Himura was a part of the Ishin Shishi, Okita suspected nothing of the sort. She was sure she could keep it a secret from even him, she had been able to do it so far. With these thoughts, Himura made a choice.

"No, it is not," she said, taking the yukata gently. "I have never accepted a gift from a man before," she admitted softly, embarrassed. It was the truth; Shishou had made her work for everything he gave her, often in the form of meaningless chores. Really, what was the point in weeding a clearing in the middle of a forest!

"I will give you more," he said warmly, his pleased emotions spreading over her like a thick blanket in the winter. Himura felt that learning the art of courtship from Souji would be incredibly easier than learning swordsmanship from Shishou.

Of course, Himura had been wrong before.


	6. Telling you the truth

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—Kenshin is a woman in this story. I apologize to those who enjoy this story that I take so long to update. I'm such a slow writer, sorry! And yes, the Okita/Battousai-Kenshin fandom is greatly underappreciated. Please help it grow! -smile-

**15. Telling you the truth**

"The festival?" Himura asked thoughtfully as she walked with Okita. It was evening and she should have been working in Miss Mae's restaurant, but instead Okita had pulled her out for a walk in the misty rain so that she could put her new umbrella to use. It was a pale pink with dark pink cherry blossoms and a blue bird painted across it-- surprisingly cheerful for the dreary weather.

"It is only a small local festival but quite fun. I thought you would like to go with me," Okita said, happy as usual. He was even happier since he got to walk next to Himura as she shared her umbrella with him.

"When?"

"In two days."

Himura looked up at the underside of the umbrella, chewing on the inside of her lip; an expression Okita had come to associate with times when she was weighing her options of what she wanted to do and what she had to do. "I could take the night off..." she said.

"I, as well," Okita said, not asking what she was taking the night off from. He knew she was not working at Miss Mae's on that day.

Himura gave him one of her rare smiles and was about to say something more when they both stopped in the middle of the road and tensed. There had not been many people out and about because it was raining and getting dark, but the strangers were anything but innocent passerby. There were four thug-looking men, sneering at them as they fanned out and blocked the road. The one on the left looked bored to be there but the other three seemed to enjoy what they were about to do. Not for the first time, Himura cursed her womanly appearance and lack of swords.

"Captain Okita," said the leader of the thugs, "we've been looking for ya. It's time to pay up that debt ya owe our gang."

"You must be mistaken. I already repaid that debt in full, with interest," Okita said, keeping his voice light. Himura could sense that he was ready to draw his sword at a moment's notice. Her own grip on the umbrella handle tightened.

"Ya forgot the friend-to-friend charge. Just 'cause we let ya take yer friend's debt doesn't mean ya get to pay the same price. Besides," grinned the gangster greedily, "ya paid Masuyo and he got knocked off by some Imperialist who stole his collections. And with all that interest pilin' up, I'd say ya owe us double by now."

"I fail to see how any of this is my problem. It is not my fault that the Imperialist scum," he missed Himura's wince, "killed your friend. I already paid you and thus we have no more business together."

"Don't make us have to rough ya up in front of yer lady there," warned the thug.

"Or perhaps we should just get her to pay for ya," suggested another of the men, giving Himura the once-over and smiling lecherously. Himura couldn't keep the look of disgust off her face.

"Let us pass and you will not be hurt," Okita said, sinking into the serious role of a true swordsman. Himura felt herself also losing the small grasp on normality that she held when she was around Okita. Subconsciously she closed the umbrella and let her arm drop to her side. Though not as good as a sword, it was still a weapon, and she could see that it would be sufficient against these fools. Only the strange look that the quiet gangster gave her distracted Himura from her thoughts before they refocused on the attack that came.

It was hardly an attack though. The men really were just low-level thugs who could never match the skill of the sword that Okita possessed. The three that attacked were killed neatly and swiftly. One that stumbled forward as he bled out through the gash in his chest was diverted by Himura who used the tip of the umbrella to turn him aside. He collapsed to her right. Okita cleaned his sword and sheathed it, glancing at Himura before turning to the last standing man.

"Hey, I'm not gonna try anything," he said, holding up his hands in a harmless gesture. He shrugged. "I gotta report back and all. Nothing personal."

"I understand," Okita said in dismissal. The man shrugged again and folded his arms inside his shirt, walking past them. Before he left he looked once more at Himura and she saw the suspicion in his eyes, and wondered why. She didn't have time to think on it as Okita turned to her, frowning. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It is all right."

"Slay evil immediately. That is the motto I live by as a Shinsengumi. I shouldn't have bargained with those men in the first place."

Himura approached until she was only a few steps away from Okita. The rain was slowly soaking them both. "You are an honorable man," she said, hoping she had spoken in the higher octave that she had adopted in Okita's company. It wouldn't do to speak to him a low voice meant to help her masquerade as a man.

"Are you saying that to make me feel better?" Okita asked with amusement. He smiled as he always did but his eyes held sadness in them. He raised a hand and touched the bandage on Himura's left cheek where a few drops of spattered blood had marred the white color. "I have tainted you with blood. What a horrible monster I am."

"I am not as innocent as I look. I am just as much of a monster as you," she informed him.

"Is that what you are keeping a secret from me, Miss Himura?" He moved his hand under her chin and tilted her face up so he could look into her eyes. He was surprised to see they were an amber color, rapidly fading into the blue that he knew. He said nothing about this though.

Himura held up the umbrella as it popped open, cutting off the soft sting of rain that had been falling on them. Without breaking his gaze, she replied quietly, "It is."


	7. Stolen heart

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—Kenshin is a woman in this story. I'm glad some people find this story romantic, even though it is not quite a conventional love story. As to incorporating the other 'canon' story elements, I'm basically fudging everything to the way I think will fit into this semi-existent plot I have going on. So I hope in the end everyone will like it!

Sidenote: sorry this took so long! FFnet was giving me problems with uploading. Sigh...

**6. Stolen heart**

Mae had been putting away a pile of clean dishes when she turned around and was surprised by the sudden appearance of Himura. "Oh!" she cried out, dropping the plates in her hand. Himura's hand shot out and caught them in a strange act of balance and skill.

"Sorry," murmured Himura, holding out the plates carefully. Mae took them back, somewhat awed and relieved that none of them had cracked despite the unique way they had been caught.

"No, no, I didn't notice you. You were so quiet," Mae said, near rambling as she put the dishes away properly. She stood and eyed Himura critically. Why was the younger girl making her so nervous all of a sudden? She looked the same as she had earlier when she had left with Okita, if a little wetter, but--

"Miss Mae?"

"I did not realize that..." she gestured to her cheek. Himura's hand raised reflexively and touched her bandaged cheek. "I thought you had gone out with Souji."

"I did. We met with opposition. Souji killed them," Himura said, as if giving a brief report to Katsura. Then her entire manner softened and she spoke the next words almost shyly. "The way he handled his sword was amazing!"

"Himura!" gasped Mae.

"Not like that!" Himura protested, realizing what Mae had thought she meant by the comment. She blushed, looking away. "He has a natural ability with the sword. I didn't realize how skilled he was until I saw him use it." Her eyes narrowed slightly at her next words, "He could be my equal in a duel."

"You really like him, don't you?" Mae asked, smiling at the odd way that Himura expressed her admiration. She wasn't quite sure what swordsmanship had to do with it all but she was definitely of the mind that encouraging a relationship with a man was a good thing. She easily ignored the knowledge that Himura was an Imperialist soldier; it was not her place to comment on such things.

Himura had grown silent. She looked unsure. "Is it wrong to like him?"

"Not at all," Mae assured her. "You deserve the happiness he gives you."

The red-head nodded, accepting Mae's logic. Her blue-violet eyes widened for a brief moment, and then assumed innocent confusion as they met Mae's brown ones. "Miss Mae, your customers...?"

"Oh!" gasped Mae for the second time that evening. She half-turned to go back out to her neglected patrons who were probably becoming disgruntled. "Will you be staying?"

A shake of the head. A few droplets of rain flung themselves from Himura's hair and fell unnoticed on the floor.

"All right then," Mae said, nodding. She returned to her work, leaving Himura in the kitchen. The girl-assassin remained there for several minutes, listening to the muffled noise of a busy restaurant before exiting through the back door.

In the darkened street outside of Mae's restaurant, Himura chuckled. Himura Battousai nearly kissed a Shinsengumi captain. She was truly insane, and yet she felt only the quickened beating of heart as she remembered those seconds in the rain.

_"I am not as innocent as I look. I am just as much of a monster as you."_

_"Is that what you are keeping a secret from me, Miss Himura?"_

_"It is."_

_"You're lying. You could never be a monster to me." He had said those words, and she had imagined that if she had drawn a sword upon him, he would have walked away unscathed. It only made Himura desire to spend more time with him._


	8. Listen to the music at night

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—Kenshin is a woman in this story.

**18. Listen to the music at night**

Himura had never been to a festival on her own before. She had accompanied Katsura as his bodyguard once before, failing to find any enjoyment in the festivities when there were so many opportunities for the rebel leader to be attacked in the crowds. Then she had been a swordsman, today she was only a normal girl.

She had taken care of her assassination duties the night before, informing Iizuka that she would be taking a day of leave and to postpone any other assignments until the day after. He had asked where she was going but she hadn't replied. Katsura was out of town, Iizuka was only a temporary replacement, she did not have to answer to him.

Okita was leaning against the rail of the bridge when she saw him. The bridge had become an unofficial meeting point for them; it was halfway between Mae's restaurant and their own destinations (that is, the Shinsengumi headquarters for Okita and the Ohagi Inn for Himura). He smiled and waved.

"Souji, sir," Himura greeted him.

"Formal as ever, Miss Himura," Okita said teasingly. They began walking together towards the main street where the festival would be centered at. "Have you been to this festival before?"

"No, it is my first time ever going to a festival."

"Really?" Okita asked in surprise. "Not even the festival on Girls Day?"

Himura shook her head, then turned away shyly as Okita's incredulous stare grew wider. How did he make her feel so embarrassed all the time?

"I can't believe that your parents never even took you to celebrate Girls Day," Okita said, toning down his shock to a wide grin.

"My parents died when I was very young," Himura said, "And my guardian didn't like coming into the city very often."

"Ah," Okita said, filing away the information. "My family encouraged me to study swordsmanship from when I was very little. I spent more time at the dojo than at home."

"Shishou was the same. He considered my apprenticeship more important than his guardianship," Himura nearly rolled her eyes thinking about Hiko.

"Apprenticeship in what?"

She nearly spoke the truth and said swordsmanship. "Pottery," she lied instead.

"How interesting, Miss Himura."

"That it is," she forced a partial smile. She didn't know that Okita was not fooled by it.

Never the less, they were able to enjoy the festival together. They admired the colorful paper decorations and Okita explained some of the games the children were playing when Himura asked about them. All was going well until Himura felt the familiar presence of her comrade. Her sharp eyes quickly picked him out of the crowd, standing by a booth selling wooden block prints. While Okita was distracted with a food stand Himura casually moved across the street to stand near Iizuka.

"Iizuka, what are you doing here?" Himura asked in a quiet tone, pretending to look at the prints.

"An urgent matter," Iizuka replied. He held a print of a famous actor out to her, a black envelope underneath. Himura took it, discreetly slipping the envelope into her sleeve.

"Can it wait until later?"

"No, it must be handled now. Katsura's orders."

Himura handed a few coins to the vendor to purchase the print. "I do not have my swords."

"I'll leave mine in the alley over there. You got an hour to take care of business," said Iizuka.

"I understand," Himura said, turning away. Iizuka headed off in the opposite direction. Himura crossed the crowded street and stopped at Okita's side.

"Souji?"

"Miss Himura, look, sweets!" Okita said, holding one up to her. Himura blinked at it. "Try one?"

"Ah, no thank you," she said with a faint smile. Okita shrugged and added it to his small basket where he was collecting the treats he planned on buying. Himura cleared her throat, "I just remembered something I have to take care of. I will try to return quickly, if that is all right..."

Okita gave her a considering look and Himura berated herself for not coming up with a decent excuse. "I'll wait by the bridge for you," he said, smiling.

Himura nodded, bowing shortly with a tentatively apologetic smile, and left him. She glanced back only to make sure he was distracted before she slipped into the alley Iizuka had indicated. A pair of swords was wedged between two crates, waiting for her. She tied them with a little difficulty to her obi. Then, hesitantly, she withdrew the black envelope from her sleeve and opened it.

Written in Katsura's precise and elegant calligraphy was the name of her next target: "Yukishiro Tomoe."

For a moment, Himura stared. Tomoe? That was a rather feminine name... A suspicion formed in Himura's mind that perhaps this was why it was such an urgent matter. She wasted no more time in useless thinking. Keeping to the alleys and backstreets, avoiding the main streets occupied by the festival goers, Himura headed towards the designated location where the target was supposed to be.

-

"Okita, what are you doing here?"

"Waiting. I thought you had patrol tonight, Saitou,"

"Hijikata changed the schedules again," said the taller man. Okita smiled faintly, knowing that the vice-captain's habit of changing the patrol rotations irked his friend.

They stood together on the bridge, looking out over the thin stream that weaved its way through the city. The sun was almost fully set, the red-orange and gold colors reminding Okita of Miss Himura. In the distance he could hear music playing, probably to accompany the street performers that were ending the night's festival with a short play.

"You have the midnight patrol," Saitou eventually said.

Okita was glad for the excuse. "I should get some sleep then. Are you heading back as well?"

Saitou nodded. He would have to find Hijikata and let him know that Okita would be taking his shift tonight. The things he did for Okita...

-

"Good work, Battousai," said the inspector, casually glancing at the woman's bloodied body lying on the ground.

"There is nothing good in death," Himura said coldly, staring at Yukishiro Tomoe with unreadable amber eyes.

The inspector shrugged uneasily and knelt by the body. He touched the throat lightly and felt no pulse. He left the note reading "Heaven's Justice" by her unmoving face and stood. "That's it. Will you be returning now as well?"

"No," Himura said simply. The inspector didn't question her and left quickly. Himura waited until she was sure he was gone before speaking again. "There is a restaurant nearby. If you can make it there, the owner, Miss Mae, will help you."

Tomoe took in a shallow breath, daring to open her eyes for the first time in several long minutes. "You would... spare me?" she said in a voice no louder than a whisper. The pain across her stomach burned inside her chest and made her legs feel weak.

"I cannot kill a defenseless woman," Himura confessed emotionlessly, looking away for the first time. Her eyes melted into a golden-blue hue.

"I will... remember... this, Battousai," Tomoe said as she struggled to sit up, clutching at her stomach. The blood was warm against her cold hands, making the pain only fractionally more tolerable. Silent tears dripped down her cheeks unnoticed.

"It will be better for you if you don't," Himura told her. She stayed no longer, leaving Yukishiro Tomoe to her fate.

As Himura again walked along the dark backroads and unused streets, this time to disguise the blood stains splashed across her pale kimono, she listened idly to the music from the festival. It was cheery and upbeat, with an underlying sadness that most would not detect unless they knew what to listen for; like Souji, she thought.

She did not return to the bridge where Souji was to wait by, nor did she return to the Ohagi Inn. Instead, Himura purchased some cheap sake from a half-blind merchant in a questionable neighborhood. She sat leaning against an old house, drinking the liquid and wondering why it tasted bitter and sweet at the same time.

Someone inside the house began playing a flute, softly and sadly. It was only then that Himura realized that the sake tasted like blood.

The sake abandoned, Himura returned to the Ishin Shishi headquarters.


	9. Guardian angel

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—Kenshin is a woman in this story. I find Hiko to be an awkward character to write about, so I hope I did okay here. Also, thank you for the reviews everyone.

**14. Guardian Angel**

Himura had often found herself in sticky situations, but never one like this.

A dozen men, ridiculously wielding weapons they had no idea how to use properly, had surrounded her in one of the emptier streets of the city. It was early morning, just past sunrise, and she had been heading back to the inn. She had lied to Katsura about going to Miss Mae's to work for the evening, instead spending the night hours in a bar, ignoring the calls of the drunk men. Unfortunately, some of those men had decided to follow her.

"Too good for us, eh?" said one of the men. He was ugly, resting his sword against his shoulder, trying to act superior.

"Yes, I am," Himura said bluntly, too tired to deal with them. She wasn't worried about injury. The strange bundle strapped to her back disguised the swords that she had begun carrying around again after her most recent assassination.

"Tch, women should learn their place. Be respectable," sneered another. Himura resisted the urge to roll her eyes. A woman's place, hah.

"We not as good as your little Shinsengumi wolf?" said yet another. At this, Himura's eyes narrowed. She remembered the gangsters that had come after Okita about a week before.

"What do you want?" Himura asked sharply.

"Touchy, touchy," snickered the men. Himura glared, her eyes melting into that dangerous amber color.

"You don't wanna be doing that," called one of the men to his friends, "she's a lot more than she seems."

Himura turned, meeting the gaze of the man who had spoken. She recognized him as the passive one from before, the one who walked away alive. What did he know, exactly?

"That's what we're counting on, heh," said the first man, leering at Himura.

That's it, Himura thought. She began to reach back for her sword as the men advanced, save the one who gave the warning. However, a familiar presence stopped her.

"I warned you this would happen if you didn't listen to me."

Himura closed her eyes. "Shishou..."

"If you value your lives, leave now," Hiko said to the men. Hiko's intimidating presence was enough to convince them. Long after the gang left, silence stretched between master and apprentice.

"Shishou," Himura repeated, arm dropping to her side and facing her teacher. "Shishou--."

"You've said that three times now, baka deshi," Hiko said dryly, folding his arms over his chest. "Did you lose your speech along with your common sense?"

"I-- I was fine. I didn't need your help," Himura said defensively.

"This is why I raised you a boy, Kenshin," he emphasized the male name, "because women cause trouble. Your features are distinguishable enough. The last thing this country needs is rumors about a sword-wielding woman along with the stories of the demon Battousai."

Himura said nothing. She could practically feel the waves of anger building up in him as he lectured her. Obviously he was still mad at her for running off last year to join the Imperialists.

"Not a single thing I ever taught you stuck in that head of yours. You are a disgrace to the Hiten Mitsurugi Style," Hiko said. Himura was beginning to look appropriately scolded, so his tone didn't change as he continued, saying: "When you are through with being an idiot, you can beg me to take you back. I might decide you're worth my time again."

Himura blinked, looking up. Had he just offered to continue her training? She nodded mutely.

"Hmph," grunted Hiko, walking past her as his cape billowed dramatically around him.

Caught up in the revelations of her teacher's words, she distractedly resumed her walk back to the inn. She didn't notice that one of the people she brushed against on her way back was a certain Shinsengumi captain.

Saitou paused in the middle of the street, staring at the retreating red-head with a calculating gaze. That woman; she smells of sake… and blood, he thought.


	10. Threads of fate

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Author's Note—Kenshin is a woman in this story. Yamanami was one of the vice-captains of the Shinsengumi during the early years of the Bakumatsu. As far as I know, Saitou's name when directly written in English should be Saitō, but the romaji (which is the version we all seem to write our Japanese words in) is Saitou. I use Saitou because I'm too lazy to insert the ō symbol for his name.

**37. Threads of fate**

"Mae?" asked Tomoe softly. She sat by the window, watching the people milling in the street below.

"Did you need something before I open the restaurant?" Mae asked, tying an apron around her middle. She had grown fond of the quiet woman who had showed up on her doorstep, half dead. It was nice to have someone around for a change, especially since Himura had oddly stopped coming by the past couple of weeks.

"How do you know Himura Battousai?"

"What?"

"Himura. He knew you would help me," Tomoe said, not looking at Mae.

"Himura works part-time for me. I needed the help with my family staying in the countryside," Mae explained.

A pause. Tomoe tilted her head towards the older woman. "I would like to meet him."

"All right," Mae said unsuredly. Himura Battousai? What could it mean?

-

Iizuka paused at the backdoor of the Ohagi Inn. He looked around nervously, checking if anyone had seen him return from his secret meeting. The yard was dark and empty, everyone was probably inside eating dinner. He reached out to open the door--

"Katsura wanted to talk to you," said Himura in a low voice. Iizuka nearly had a heart attack.

"B-Battousai! What were you doing out here so late?" Iizuka forced a friendly chuckle.

"Training."

"Oh." There was no sign that the assassin had been doing anything of the sort and he wondered what Battousai's definition of training was. First the man walks around dressed like a girl, then does so in the company of their enemy, and now waits outside in the dark like a creepy fairytale monster.

"Katsura is waiting."

And those eyes! Iizuka acknowledged the other's words and headed into the inn, if only to get away from the expressionless staring that was starting to make him feel guilty.

Himura stared after Iizuka's back until the door closed behind him. He had been acting strange lately; had he recognized Souji at the festival? Her eyes traveled up the building to the window of Katsura's room. She would have to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't mention it to Katsura.

-

"Okita."

Okita paused in his training, wiping sweat from his forehead as he looked over to his friend. He smiled. "Was there something you needed, Saitou?"

"Yamanami recieved a report on Hitokiri Battousai," Saitou said, knowing it would pique Okita's interest.

True to form, Okita sheathed his sword and wandered over. "He found an Imperialist willing to defect?" he asked.

"I didn't hear the details, but I know this: the rumors of Battousai's appearance are true. He has red hair, amber eyes, and unbelievable speed."

"With the corpses we've examined I suspected as much about his speed. To kill so precisely with one stroke would require a high level of skill. It could be a clue as to the sword style he practices," Okita said. His smile had faded in favor of a serious expression as he analyzed what he knew about the elusive assassin.

"Red hair is a foreigner's trait. It would be memorable amongst any students of his."

"True, but we don't have time to inquire at every school that teaches swordsmanship in the country. How reliable is Yamanami's spy?"

"He fears Battousai, it is unlikely he would lie about him."

"The more we learn about him, the better we'll be able to fight the Ishin Shishi. Without the Battousai they could barely accomplish half the things they have done this past year," Okita said. "I will talk with Yamanami and ask to talk to the spy directly. Perhaps we can learn more."

"Our squads along with Nakamura's stand the best chance against the Battousai's skill. Any information we gain would be beneficial," Saitou said. He paused. "How common do you believe red hair to be?"

Okita blinked at the change in topic. "That is an odd question coming from you," he said, "but I suppose it must not be completely uncommon. There have been foreigners in the country years before the war, after all."

"Hm," Saitou indirectly agreed. He recalled the red-haired woman he had noticed before. It was something to keep in mind.

"Ne, Saitou, I was wondering if you could do something for me..."

Saitou raised an eyebrow and Okita grinned. Saitou's eyes narrowed. "What?" he asked warily.

If it was possible, Okita's smile widened. Saitou mentally sighed.


End file.
